My Thoughts, And You
by SlvrSoleAlchmst1
Summary: Eren has seen the basement, learned some truth about the walls, and is contending with his father's memories. He's keeping secrets, struggling with new responsibilities, and - because now he knows dark, adult things - kissing Armin Arlert silly.
1. Chapter 1

_**Author Note: **I never thought I'd be writing Attack On Titan stuff. But I recently saw the end of season 3, had my mind blown and the rug ripped out from under me, and got inspired to dive in – because WOW._

_I HAVE NOT READ THE MANGA, so please, no spoilers! And please give me some leeway if this fic includes something weird, because I still don't know all the truths of their world. Again, I've only seen up to season 3._

* * *

Hange headed down the halls, ignoring the recently-installed paintings on the walls of their new Queen, Historia Reiss. She checked instead for any signs that anybody followed her.

No one did. What a relief to have a government she could trust, now. Mostly.

She made a mental note to have someone look into Zachary's experiments. Hange didn't like to interrupt anyone's quest for knowledge — but the fact was, the man didn't hold back at all. What he was doing was purely torture. And for _her _to be saying that, after she had messed with Sannes, and with titans who'd actually been people...? Well. Hange figured something ought to be done. Her steps grew a bit heavier.

But Zachary wasn't her concern right now. Their first meeting with him upon their return from Eren's father's basement was over. The three books they had located... the truth was out of her hands now.

Her concern now was to locate Eren Jaeger. She stopped short at a window and leaned on the sill — but Eren wasn't in the courtyard down below. She pivoted and continued the route she still thought him most likely to have taken — the one that retired to the temporary bedrooms they'd all been given so they could rest and recover. Eren hadn't looked very well, after all. A little cloudy and tight around the eyebrows. Definitely a grim downturn to his mouth.

She passed Sasha's door first; it had been left open.

Hange glanced inside, catching the injured girl chewing rapidly and hiding her hands behind her back. Hange paused there and laughed. "Does recovery taste good?"

Sasha flushed, looked guiltily down at her blanket-wrapped lap. Then she just nodded.

Hange asked, "Say... I don't suppose Eren has visited you recently?"

Sasha swallowed the rest of her food. "Just Mikasa."

"I see. How odd." Mikasa, but not Eren or Armin.

But there was nothing to be done. Hange reached a hand into her pocket, drew out a dried piece of meat the length of her forefinger, and tossed it to Sasha for Sasha's trouble. Sasha stared down at it, eyes widening. "Shout if he comes in here, will you?"

"Yes! Yes, ma'am, I swear I will!"

At that, Hange took off again, with Sasha's whoop echoing off the stone walls. The other bedrooms were around the corner, at the farther end of the halls.

Eren Jaeger. Just what was he up to?

Hange had known what the look in Eren's eyes meant during their meeting that day, when he'd suddenly leapt up and interrupted their audience with a loud exclamation. The boy had realized something, she believed — some new bit of titan-related information that might lead them to another breakthrough. But for the moment, Eren was choosing to keep whatever epiphany he'd experienced to himself.

Hange hadn't minded covering for him, by smoothing out his faltering and breezing past it in front of everyone. It wasn't the _worst_ scenario, Eren wishing to keep secrets. It just pricked curiosity too much for Hange to ignore.

She turned the corner in the hall. Eren was growing up, no matter which way she looked at it. He was learning caution at last, and discretion, thinking details and repercussions through before he went blurting information out. Hange couldn't complain about that; she knew the trick regarding knowledge that could change the world was straightforward — one must keep the truth quiet as long as possible, until one knew without a doubt said truth could be conveyed in a way that was acceptable to the noisy, dumb masses. Otherwise there might be chaos. But this time, there was one problem with Eren's logical approach.

The people in that meeting room... herself, Levi, Pixis, the remaining Scouts... those people were elites, not the masses. If Eren wanted to keep his realization to himself still, even then...

Hange knocked upon Mikasa's door first, when she reached the three rooms at the end of the hall. A stirring noise sounded within, but Hange received no answer. Mikasa was sleeping, then. Perhaps Eren and Armin were doing the same. And in that case... was it truly worth bothering them? Could Hange's curiosity wait... or not? What if this turned out to be a sensitive case in which it was her _duty_ to investigate?

She hovered at Mikasa's doorway and thought. What Eren's silence meant to her was that... whatever he'd realized had repercussions, ones he didn't yet want to face by blathering. He was probably trying to protect someone. Mikasa? Armin? Ah... Historia? If the latter, no wonder Eren had clammed up.

If it was something that large, Hange definitely didn't want to rush the truth. She would much rather trust Eren. Eren was the boy, after all, who had been willing to let her experiment on his titan form more times than she could count. Eren was the boy who, after being kidnapped by Bertholdt and Reiner, discovering his power to control titans, then returning with the few people left alive, had found himself forced into hiding while he and Historia were hunted down by the Military Police... yet had still found time to write Hange a note about a conversation he had overheard between Ymir and Bertholdt — just because he'd thought it might be useful.

Yes. Hange trusted Eren to do the right thing. Which meant she could leave him alone for now. She could leave him alone, she told herself, when she noticed her feet still inched more down the hall.

And she shook a little in her great excitement.

Aah, she just couldn't stand it, wondering what new piece of information Eren had that now might be investigated! She gave up on her manners and marched past the next door — Armin's — after knocking upon it, too, and getting no reply. What she wanted was definitely the last door, the last place for Eren to be when she had found him nowhere else.

Eren's bedroom.

A grin curled up Hange's lips, of a type she probably shouldn't let people see. First, she would corner Eren, whether he was asleep or not — then make him feel like he had no choice but to tell her before she let him sleep soundly. He could stay in his blankets, though, nice and comfortable, so he couldn't accuse her of disturbing his rest. She'd make sure they were alone, too, by shutting and locking the door after her, so Eren would know he was safe and they couldn't be overheard. Her hand raised to knock on Eren's door and her excitement mounted more. This was also about trust; Eren had to know Hange would take care with his sensitive information. She had been wise with his trust before, hadn't she? Of course. So there was no problem; she could again become the adult Eren Jaeger trusted, even this abuzz with her anticipation and a little too willing to push him too hard.

Hange would find out _everything_. And then...

She hesitated in knocking after all. Briefly, she touched the bandage over her left eye.

She would find out everything... and then humanity inside the walls could take on their newfound enemy _outside_ it.

Her jaw tightened. _A place called Marley, is it?_

Marley had no idea what it would be in for.

* * *

[ONE HOUR EARLIER]

Eren sat on his bed with his back to the wall. This time, Mikasa wasn't in the room on just the other side of his. She might not even be within hearing distance unless he shouted, judging by this building's thick stone walls. It felt odd not to be close to her — regardless of whether he needed or wanted her aggressive protection. Eren couldn't relax any more without her. But here, inside Wall Sina, they ought to be safe.

Or so at least Eren hoped.

At least he still had _some _comfort. As if to make up for Mikasa's distance from him, Armin occupied Eren's bedroom right now. The newly-minted Colossal Titan sat at the desk there, while Eren scanned him. Armin wrote something with a pen.

Eren's vision clouded up next. Hadn't he been in another place not long ago, set up like this? Himself, a strange mixture of restless and listless atop a bed, with Armin earnestly writing down notes. Eren felt groundless now, remarking it, not sure which 'where' or which 'when' he existed in.

Then he realized his present felt the same as his having been locked in that cell. For discipline. Yes, that had felt just like this. He was confusing rooms, perhaps. He wasn't locked in that cell any more. They'd let him out from behind bars. Eren was sure he recalled that...

He was supposed to be a 'hero,' now. But currently, he didn't feel like one.

The light outside the bedroom window died, and Eren watched it do so sourly. The truth was, he still partly wished Christa — no, Historia — had eaten him in that underground cavern. Later, he'd tried to punch that uncertain, whiny brat and his opinions out of himself — but in the end, the effect had been temporary. Eren continued to fight with mountains of doubt.

He had wanted to turn himself into humanity's hope. So he'd tossed those explosive barrels into the gullet of Rod Reiss's titan, exploding the man's nape from the inside, and then he'd watched Historia proclaim herself the rightful heir to the throne. In other words, he had helped the Scouts succeed. But now, as for Eren's feeling truly useful... Again, he felt use_less_ instead.

The pen Armin used scratched noisily. It didn't look as if Armin wanted to be interrupted in the midst of his furious scrawl.

"Just a minute longer," Armin said, as if sensing Eren grew impatient with him.

When would Armin tell him what he worked on? "Okay."

Eren closed his eyes and listened to the sound of Armin's notes and breathing, next — sorting again through all that clamored in his head. To hell with getting extra rest.

Eren had the power of the Founding titan — and he needed to learn how to make use of it. Even if he couldn't use it the same way a royal family member might have... there still had to be something, right? According to Historia, Armin, Hange, everyone... Eren's normal, non-royal blood was what made him a trump card. The royal family members, once awakened to the Founding titan's power, all followed the first king's will and refused to save the struggling humanity inside the walls. But Eren, if he could only tap that same power, might be able to betray the wishes of the cruel and selfish king somehow. The only hope humanity in the walls had, the only person with a chance to save them... was Eren.

But the problem was, now Eren knew _why _the first king had wished his people to remain caged in the walls. That didn't mean Eren agreed with staying trapped. But surely other people inside the walls would prefer to remain so, once they knew the truth_. _People he'd come across already _had_.They all preferred their ignorance. The world outside — across the sea — was far crueler than anything Wall Maria enclosed. That world wanted Eldians destroyed. Eren was an Eldian descendent. Everybody else here was, too — which meant they'd be at risk if they left from the walls. The true conflict was bigger than anyone could have imagined. None of that changed what Eren needed to do; he still wanted to serve Queen Historia and all the Scouts. To save and to free his people. But now he had the truth — his father's well of memories — to contend with. He had to bear the weight of helping his superiors figure out what move to make next, based on it. What would be best for everybody in the walls, even the ones who preferred ignorance? Who could make a decision like that easily? Who had the right to decide it?

Eren felt like it was too much. To overwhelming for the likes of him. Grisha Jaeger, who Eren had eaten... who had told him to save Mikasa and Armin, had possessed too much reckless ambition from the start. Everyone thought _Eren _was bad? Grisha had married someone royal in Marley that— Eren faltered, a shiver running down his spine. Married someone that was now a titan, thanks to a grim chain of fateful events. The very same titan that had eaten Eren's mother. His mother! And then Hannes. Poor Hannes. Eren twitched, angry.

And yet then, that same titan... that very same cursed titan had enabled Eren to tap into the power to control the _other_ titans. Was Eren supposed to pity that titan, his father's first wife, or hate it?

It really was too much for him.

"Almost done. I just want to make sure—" Armin cut himself off to write more notes. Again.

Eren didn't even reply.

He thought he knew now what it meant when he touched that certain titan. It meant Eren needed a royal-blooded titan to help him unlock the Founding Titan's powers. But who could Eren tell that detail to? How was he supposed to handle it? Who could he trust with that information that wouldn't endanger Historia Reiss? He'd seen enough of people transforming into titans. He didn't want that fate for Historia, too.

Perhaps he could tell Armin? Eren glanced up.

Armin's face scrunched in his concentration; he reached to tuck a blond hair-strand behind his ear. Upon seeing the action, Eren hesitated, feeling suddenly short of breath.

No. Not Armin. He couldn't tell Armin this. He'd already put Armin through enough. And what was this sharp stirring in Eren's chest?

The memories and thoughts from his father's perspective were rearing up in him again.

_Dina... Dina, I'm sorry. I miss you._

Eren lost all focus on the room before him. He blinked. He had a son named Zeke somewhere. No... Eren didn't. Grisha did. Eren had a half-brother on the Marleyan side, outside the walls, who he sat remembering right now. But the memories mixed oddly with Eren's own thoughts. Zeke was probably an enemy to him. In fact, Zeke probably wanted the Founding Titan power Eren had too.

Eren was the whole world's most sought-after person, as far as he now knew. He would continue to be that, and no matter what it cost him... but it had already cost his _friends _too much. Zeke had better not mess with them. If he tried, Eren would _obliterate_ him.

The Grisha in Eren didn't seem to like that. There was guilt, regret, sadness, more guilt Eren sensed... but anger from his father, too. His father still felt betrayed. Good; he _had_ been, by his own damn son. Even if Grisha had created Zeke's viewpoint himself, that was no reason to rule Zeke out as a potential threat now to Eren.

All Eren felt himself was bitterness. _Don't you want me to set him straight for you, Dad? Because I will. I swear it._

Eren felt like he lost pieces of himself every time he engaged with his father's memories. He grew afraid his sanity trickled away. Except he couldn't quite _stop_ Grisha's memories or the odd dialogues that played out in his mind once they tickled at the surface of Eren's consciousness like this.

He stared at the stone wall blurring before him. He murmured for what felt like the hundredth time, "Shingeki no... kyojin."

"Yes, you've said that."

Eren came to after Armin said it — upon the noise of a pen getting set down. When he looked over at the desk, he found Armin assessing him.

Eren glanced away at once; he couldn't stand the concern and flash of pity in those blue eyes. But Armin kept studying him. The moment seemed to last a whole lifetime. Or was Eren's recognition of time passage still acting up? God damn, this was getting annoying. Couldn't Eren see anything any more with his own eyes?

Eyes. Those big eyes on Armin's face. That blond hair... Armin looked like Dina.

Eren covered his face and groaned. Armin asked him something, but he didn't hear it.

Which feelings, which emotions now were Eren's, and which belonged to his father? Or were they one in the same, now? Would it stay like this forever?

"Eren... is everything all right?" Armin sounded like he repeated himself.

Eren's voice rasped; words felt too difficult. "I don't know," he said. "It's like I'm—"

But then he stopped. If he said what he felt, that might make it twice as real. Or Eren might get stuck in a strange loop of memories and time — _again_.

"I know it's hard," Armin told him, "but I want you to go over it one more time. Everything you can remember — until I know it's thorough. If thirteen years is really all the time we have to live after becoming these special titans... then I want to be sure of it. Not only for Mikasa's sake, to see if we can comfort her. But because there's no telling how long it'll take for us to achieve anything outside these walls. If we're going to die well before that, or be required to pass our titan powers down..." But Armin thoughtfully trailed off.

Eren could barely follow Armin's words. "I was telling you out loud his memories again? I was? When? A moment ago, or just now?"

Armin jerked, clearly astonished. "Yes," Armin said. "You were, a few minutes ago. And then I was writing some extra notes down. Do you not remember when I knocked on your door and asked if I could come in, and—?" Armin halted when Eren laughed — a broken, breathy, chuckle-sob.

God. It was so funny in a sense, right? How everything in Eren's mind would simply run together, now. So many times, he'd just space out, and have little to no idea what was going on around him.

Unless he learned to deal with this, how could Eren fight titans now?

Pity softened Armin's features once more. "Never mind," Armin said, calm. "Thank you for searching his memories again. We've done enough tonight. Let's stop."

Eren stirred. Then he climbed up off the bed. He raked his hands back through his hair, just trying not to laugh harder. All Armin's prior words about time limits and life spans began to set in. "Humanity is doomed," he said, "because now _we_ are. And on top of it, I'm slowly going crazy. Crazy, Armin."

Armin didn't reply to that — which made Eren think he must sound over-dramatic or childish. "Do you want me to make them bring you anything?" Armin asked instead. He turned and watched as Eren began pacing, next.

The pacing was Eren's attempt to act instead of speak another word. Eren didn't want Armin to look down on him. Making Armin have to chide him while appearing so disappointed in him... It hurt when Armin did that.

"Some food? I'll bet Sasha has some. She's been recovering quickly. Isn't that great?"

Eren couldn't help it; he laughed emptily again — and Armin swallowed, seeing it.

But Armin kept on in the face of Eren's mood. "Some water? Do you want to sleep? Ah — I know. I can have them bring you a few more pillows, so—"

"Armin," Eren cut in — and more roughly than he'd meant to.

When Armin fell silent and simply waited, Eren decided his mood was a lost cause. If he was going to be emotional, he might as well be it.

He asked one of the questions that had lately been bothering him. "Don't you _hate_ us for all of this?"

Armin's brow clouded; his eyebrows drew together. He turned back in his desk chair just enough that all Eren could see was his profile. Armin knew, Eren could tell, what it was Eren referred to. Yet he still turned his back like that — as if he wouldn't dare answer.

Even though the answer was important.

The silence nearly drove Eren more crazy. He wanted to grab Armin's shoulders and shake. He wanted to demand, _Look me in the eye, and say it boldly to my face! _But he fisted his hands instead, and — in a rare show of patience — he waited.

Armin would speak when he was ready, after considering carefully what to say. Like always. Eren simply needed to be an adult, not the impatient little brat people expected of him.

After time ate further precious moments, Armin said, "It's like Captain Levi said to me on top of the wall, after I woke up there healed." But then Armin shook his head. "No... It's like what he said to me well before then, when I shot someone to protect Jean. All this..." Armin looked at his hands.

It hurt Eren deep in his chest to see Armin look that resigned to his fate, now.

"This is the new me," Armin said, letting his hands drop to his lap. "And I have to move forward with it. I'm no replacement for Erwin, like everyone already knows... but with the weight of the blood on my hands, and all that's been spilt for my sake, I can only do my best, since I'm still alive now. It's useless to hate you or Mikasa for your part in this." But after speaking such logical and noble words, Armin didn't look up at Eren or smile. He still looked down at his hands, as if conflicted about it. Eren couldn't stand to see Armin look like that, with such a deep crease across his forehead.

He tried asking Armin another question. "What are you _really_ feeling, or thinking? What have _you_ seen, yourself, since becoming a titan? Do you see Bertholdt's memories? Do you—"

"Please don't ask me about that. Not yet." At that, Armin turned to him, smiling at last... but not in any happy or open way.

Eren fell quiet out of shock. Armin looked strained and curt with him.

"I promise you," Armin said, "I've told anything relevant already to Hange. My condition isn't anywhere near as important as yours is. So... so could you please tell me whether there's anything I can do for you right now? It's late, and even you need rest—"

"Don't. Don't do this," Eren cut in.

Armin appeared startled again. But Eren just couldn't stand it.

He moved forward in three quick steps and seized Armin by the shoulders. "Talk," he commanded, still hoarse. "_Talk _to me, Armin. I feel so distant from you now. Don't just push me or Mikasa away. Let... let me in, somehow — please."

His words broke Armin's barriers; Eren felt relieved to see a kinder, more familiar expression soften Armin's face at last.

Armin said, "Don't be silly — I'm right here. And as long as I can be... then I always will."

It was a good proclamation to hear. So Eren felt very surprised when tears came to his eyes on hearing it. They seem to rise from the depths of his heart, and entirely unbidden.

Armin's words comforted him. So why was he crying right now? Hadn't Eren already cried enough, while arguing for Armin's life with Levi on that roof?

No, Eren thought after that. He knew why that hadn't been enough, why there were _still_ tears to be shed. It was because he felt guilty. Guilty that even after all they'd been through, Armin had to be the one comforting _him_.

Eren cried now mostly because he knew he'd been a failure again. Armin was just too good for everyone, for the whole world — too good for _him — _and Eren felt like everything was his fault. Eren could have done better, from the day Bertholdt and Reiner first broke the walls. He could have worked harder to prevent Armin's needing to become the Colossal Titan.

His grip on Armin's shoulders loosened. The next thing he knew, he'd sunken to the floor — before the chair and Armin, on his knees. His head hung. His tears patted the hardwood to the side of Armin's shoes.

Armin pushed the chair back, alarmed, and made like he would join Eren on the floor. But then he seemed to debate it for an eternity — or maybe that was Eren's wrong sense of time. In any case, Armin remained standing a while. But Eren felt Armin's surprisingly strong hands close onto _his _shoulders, instead — as if trying to urge Eren to rise.

He didn't move. His tears made it hard to see. He sniffled and spoke aloud what he'd been holding back until then. All of it.

It felt like the only action he could take that would maybe stop his crying.

"Y-you," he said, "you _lied_ to me. You told me we'd go see the sea together. Then instead, you sacrificed... How could you have done such a thing? Why?"

There was a shifting of fabric. Armin _did_ join him on the floor. But he stayed kneeling just above where Eren hunched lower.

Eren curled around himself. A moment passed.

Then Eren heard a nearly inaudible breath. "I'm sorry, Eren. I am."

Eren scrubbed his eyes with his sleeve. But he still couldn't stop the sobs. "I-I'm not angry any more. I just..." One of Armin's hands ran through Eren's hair when Eren trailed off — suddenly, fiercely. A gesture unlike Armin.

But it _might_ have been like Armin after all, Eren decided, his scalp tingling. There was lot about Armin he'd failed to notice. Like that Armin this close had a soothing and yet heightening effect on him.

Eren had consistently been underestimating his friend, despite how he'd cherished and admired Armin. Perhaps that made this tear-fall one hundred percent Eren's own fault — for not knowing Armin well enough to see through Armin's hero act before Armin's body had burned to a crisp.

God, Eren really was useless. He sniffed and wiped his eyes again.

"That's enough," Armin murmured. "It's okay." Then he pulled Eren in toward him.

Eren went unresisting into the embrace. His heart thundered as he settled into the fold of Armin's arms. Never once had Armin pulled Eren into a hug or dared to stroke his hair like this. How pathetic must Eren look right now, to make Armin feel forced to make such a display? Armin probably just wanted Eren to be quiet, to let sleeping dogs lie between them, so they could better face the more pressing issue of the fate of humanity inside the walls. But here Eren was instead, being immature again, crying out his eyes.

Still. Just for that moment, just for that instant, Eren wanted to indulge his childish side. He wanted this comfort to keep going, until his tears finally ceased. It felt nice to be held in someone's arms. Armin's.

"Listen," Eren managed to say — when Armin tried to hush his sobs again. The least Eren could do was tell Armin the feelings that were still churning inside him.

Maybe then Armin could help them to dissipate.

"Listen to me. Let me say what I need to say."

Armin's fingers tightened in his hair, then loosened. Then the rest of his body followed, relaxing too... and Eren realized Armin _was_ listening.

Eren inhaled a shaky breath. "Once I realized what you'd done, I thought, 'I'm such an idiot.' I should have seen through you and protected you. I should have—"

"I didn't want you to. The only way that we could have—"

"I was scared, Armin!" Eren said. He cried harder, recalling it. "Scared because you'd gone away, and I couldn't do anything." The feelings rose in him again. The crushing horror and the pain of loss. "I missed you. I felt empty right away." _Dina... I miss you. I'm sorry. _"Like a piece of me was gone, because I thought I couldn't ever see you again. And I just wanted... so badly—"

"I'm right here. Now it's all okay."

"But you went away," Eren insisted. "The point is, you intended to!" Maybe the wound would never close, no matter how much he talked about it. "We almost couldn't get you back. But then we did, and the price you've had to pay—"

"_Eren._" Armin yanked Eren's head up, his hands gripping either side of Eren's face.

They locked eyes. Eren stared, forgetting to cry.

Blubbering to Armin _was _helping, then.

"There's no sense in beating yourself up," Armin said. "What's done has been done. Don't you understand? I am not blaming you for it."

A moment passed. Armin didn't look away. And then, despite his best efforts, Eren just continued to cry — though the tears were silent and steady this time. How amazing Armin was, to always know just what to say. Eren didn't deserve Armin.

Armin didn't release his face.

Eren registered rather late how close they were to each other. "Armin," he said after a moment more — smiling helplessly through his upset as he continued to hold Armin's gaze. "Did you know...? Now I know what the sea looks like — because my father has seen it. It's exactly the color and the depth I can see right now, in your eyes."

Armin leaned away from him, sounding breathless. "It's... It's wha—?"

Eren closed the remaining distance between them, kissing Armin easily on the lips.

He couldn't have helped the gesture. It felt correct in that moment. Like the only damn useful thing he could achieve. He raised one hand instinctively and ran it against Armin's cheek.

Armin's lips parted in surprise. Eren breathed in the scent and taste of him, inhaling sharply... but kissing gently, so gently, for a long instant. Who was Eren kissing again? Dina... No, _Armin — _who he'd missed terribly. How long had these feelings been there?

Eren didn't know. He didn't care. He simply _needed, _that moment. He needed Armin's faintly earthy taste and the heat of his trembling mouth beneath his. Needed Armin to acknowledge how important he was to Eren.

_Don't you dare go away like that again, _Eren thought._ I won't let such a thing happen on my account. Never, ever, ever again._

Then he felt Armin pushing him away.

Armin's forearm came in between them and pressed Eren's chest until Eren backed off.

Afterward, they still stared in each other's faces. But now Eren felt thunderstruck and confused. And pure disbelief widened Armin's sea eyes.

"What..." Armin's voice sounded weak. "What did... why did you just do that?"

Eren fumbled to speak. "S-sorry."

"No. It's just..." Armin stuffed a hand into his hair, glancing above them at the desk he'd left, and at the pen and paper set up there. "I should be writing this down, maybe, as a side effect of the shift you're going through, because I'm sure Hange will want..."

That called Eren to the present.

His shoulders tensed. "_Huh?_ Hang on. I didn't do that just now, just because..." But then Eren stopped.

_Had_ he done this of his own reasoning? Or was this again because he'd been confusing his new rush of memories for reality?

_God damn it, Dad, _he thought bluntly. _Don't make things complicated in _this _sense. I want to be my own person and do things like this by my own will and desire. Isn't it up to me now, anyway?_

_I thought you had disappeared, but I ate you. Either way, now there's only me. You're gone._

_Your memories are only that._

Armin shifted to put one foot flat on the floor, so that he could stand up and return to his chair. "I guess I'm glad it was me," he muttered, "and not Jean, or... or Mikasa, or something. That would be too cruel for her, I think... and you wouldn't last the night if you did that to Jean." He appeared to be talking now just to himself.

Eren, too, rose to his feet — beating Armin there as Armin rose more slowly. He faltered, feeling his face flush. He tried to explain again. "That's not—"

"Eren... don't do that again, okay?"

Eren looked and saw Armin's hands trembling on the desk chair where he'd placed them.

"It's not that I have anything against it," Armin clarified, seeing Eren's face and looking kindly at him. "The truth is, I don't care about what's common, or about typical black and white thinking. I knew how Ymir and Chris— Historia felt about each other before they said it, because I, too, tend to see people for their qualities before I see them for their — well." He paused. Then he inhaled and went on. "It isn't that I'm balking at being kissed by you in principle. It's just..."

Eren put his face in his hands for the second time that night and groaned. He couldn't do anything right.

"It's just, I know this is a bad time to give anybody the wrong idea, or to let them see such a thing — even if just by accident."

Armin didn't have to say out loud what Eren had realized he must be thinking. Mikasa wasn't in the next room over, but she was certainly still near. What would she have done, how would she have felt if she'd seen Eren lean over and _kiss_ Armin? How would the rest of their squad feel? The people in the walls depending on him?

Eren's face flushed even hotter.

"We'll have to come up with a plan," Armin said. The fingers of one of his hands now idly traced his lips in thought — in a manner that nearly drove Eren more mad as he recalled how those lips had felt against his own.

Eren wanted to kiss Armin again. But Armin was saying he didn't want it.

"A plan — to make sure that if the urge for you to kiss someone reoccurs at random like that, it doesn't affect anybody's morale, or anybody's trust in you. You're keeping a secret right now, aren't you?"

Eren jerked and focused again. Armin realized he kept something secret?

Of course he did. That was just like Armin. But still, Eren kept his mouth stubbornly shut and tried to show no expression.

"Something about what you yelled in our meeting today... You've realized something, haven't you? I won't press you to share it, but if you do too many things to make people question what you're thinking, or holding back, or what you might do at any moment—"

"It isn't what you think it is." Eren took Armin by the wrist. He pulled Armin in close to him.

He wasn't crying any more; the tears were drying down his cheeks. And he counted himself lucky he wasn't healing anything just then — or the tears might turn into steam and burn the eyelashes off the both of them.

He'd pulled Armin in _very _close.

"It's only what I said, Armin. I was upset. I didn't want you to die. And so... just now, I was trying to show it. It just... it wanted to come out." Eren glanced down at Armin's mouth, dizzy and muddled-feeling. Giddy. "I'm glad you're here with us again."

Armin tried to back away, but Eren held him too tightly. "Glad enough to _kiss me?_" Armin said.

"Does it sound ridiculous?"

"_Yes._"

They stared at each other a long moment more. Suddenly, Eren felt better. He had the familiar, aching urge to collapse and burst out laughing — mostly at Armin's attempt to wriggle away. How long had it been since Eren had felt a bolt of genuine good humor like _that?_ Eren was so glad Armin was alive, even if, for Eren, they could only be together eight more years.

Thinking again of the time limit they'd discovered made something twist inside his heart, but this time, Eren ignored it — for the rest of this current moment that they had.

"But Armin. If I don't act on my instinct when I feel something powerful like this, and then if something else happens... then I might never get the chance to tell you what I most want to. And I don't want that tragedy."

"S-something powerful? Still, it's—"

"You're cute when you're startled, you know."

Armin turned his face to the side, his expression partly hidden by the fall of his hair against his jaw line — but there was no concealing the flush that tinted _his_ cheeks now, too. Armin said, "There's no way I can believe, based on everything from the past, that you would _actually _show the least bit of interest in me in this sense. S-so excuse me if I don't..."

Eren's eyebrows rose. He considered Armin's statement, faintly amused, but mortified as well. Was that what Armin honestly believed that Eren thought of him?

Armin thought Eren wouldn't consider him worth kissing. But Eren had long ago learned to stop looking down on Armin for anything. And, if Eren didn't look down on him — and since Armin was beautiful, and since Armin mattered so much as Eren's friend — why _wouldn't _he be worth kissing?

Armin was still the little boy who never ran away from anything, even if he didn't fight back. And only Armin could make judgement calls that could bring victory to the rest of them. That was why Eren and Mikasa had wanted to _save _him. Armin's abilities were undeniable. They thrilled Eren to the core. Armin was a wonderful person and good friend.

"Give yourself some credit," Eren said.

Armin turned back, scowling at him. "Well, isn't it a matter of—?"

The moment Armin turned back, Eren dipped his head and caught up Armin's lips again.

He still held Armin's wrist, but lightly now, so that if Armin wished to, he could break away. But Armin shivered in his grip. And then he let out a small breath.

The sound of breaking resistance fueled Eren's mounting desire — that strange desire he'd maybe always felt, but never bothered to examine until now.

There'd been more important things, hadn't there? Sheer survival. His hatred of all the titans. His mother's insistence that he 'be a man,' and be there for Mikasa, no matter what. His mother's death. Hatred of titans again. His training as a Scout recruit. Wondering where his father had gone, then dealing with the realization that he'd eaten the man. The truth about himself, Annie, Bertholdt, Reiner, Ymir. But right now... Armin. Just Armin — that was what Eren felt.

The jolt inside him when Armin kissed back, the feeling of sliding his hand to Armin's waist and pulling Armin in closer... It was sweet. This trading body heat, trading breaths that shortened and increased, until they made a melody of little moans... It was so perfect Eren felt bliss. The movement against each other, the instinctive touching and guiding Eren did while Armin's hands closed in his shirt, against Eren's chest, over the belt Eren still wore because he hadn't bothered, even while on his bed, to take off anything but the bulky metal parts of his ODM gear... Eren wanted every bit of this.

A flash of memory came to him again. Of himself — no, his father — doing something intimate like this. With his first wife.

Then again. But with Eren's mother, now.

Eren's nose wrinkled — but only for an instant, before he got lost in more of Armin's responses. Armin muttered Eren's name, kissing back again.

Was Eren's new knowledge of acts like this — acts Eren had never done before himself — why he suddenly felt so confident? So sure of himself, so certain of what he wanted and intended to do next? He wanted to pleasure Armin until Armin could take no more. Show Armin how desperately he was appreciated. Kiss, touch, stroke, make love, perhaps—

_Gross, old man, _Eren thought, furious. _Stay out of this. I can make Armin cry out... I can discover this, have this, live this for _myself_. It's _me_ doing this, me and Armin, and you have no part in it at the moment._

He blinked, coming out of the memory world... and took stock of his present. Armin had squeezed his shirt.

Armin tipped his head back and stammered, "E-Eren... _oh_."

Armin liked what was being done. But when had Eren moved his lips from Armin's mouth to Armin's throat? The buttons of Armin's collar were parted, too; his collarbone looked white and beautiful — but for the marks of Eren's teeth now blooming over half of it.

Armin looked at him, breathing hard. Something like awe and fear filled his expression... mingling with what Eren recognized must be the same alarmingly strong, curious desire _he_ felt. But Armin didn't tell him to stop. He simply nodded permission — for something, something _more _from Eren — while his voice spoke its last protests... out of some leftover sense of duty, perhaps. "A-are you sure you...? Should we really...?"

Eren tried to control himself. He tried not to rush, seeing Armin so open. He merely wet his lips with his tongue in preparation to speak, to try to give Armin some reassurance.

But nothing came out. So Eren shook his head, hoping he didn't look as comically startled and yet as hungry as Armin did. Too wild with the longing that had now roared awake in him.

Eren knew what he was doing — yet he didn't. Did Eren trust himself like this? How could he ask _Armin_ to trust him blindly in such a matter?

But he didn't need to decide. Armin made the mistake of making the choice for both of them — by glancing over at the bed.

Eren groaned at that, long and low — while Armin said, "We could... I mean, if it's something you need to get out of your system..."

"It's _not like that,_" Eren exclaimed. "It's not anything weird with my titan power, it's..." _It's just you, Armin, _he wanted to express. _All these thoughts of mine... about you._

He bent his lips to Armin's neck again.

"_Eren_." Armin began shivering again. "I'm not going to be able to hold back, myself, if you keep on like this, you know..."

Eren didn't mind hearing that. So he steered Armin toward the bed. "Then don't hold back. You don't have to. We're both titans now... remember?"

* * *

Hange hesitated at Eren's door. Certainly, certainly those could not be the sounds she imagined meandering out from the door's other side.

They weren't loud sounds by any means. But they didn't need to be for Hange's sharp hearing to classify them, for her quick observations to make sense of it. Hange ran through her deductions.

Mikasa, already abed, having still looked a bit thin and weak at dinner. Hange had stopped by Armin's room too, on her way here to find Eren. But Armin hadn't been inside. Which meant that Armin was either missing, too... or here, in Eren's room, just like it sounded.

Hange wondered if she should laugh. She'd definitely found them at last. Except Eren Jaeger and Armin Arlert were, unexpectedly but _absolutely_—

"Oy," came a voice from down low, behind her.

Hange whirled. "Shh!" She raised a finger to her lips.

Levi's flat expression didn't change. He just stared at her, waiting for an explanation.

"It seems," she said, "that now isn't a good time—"

"Any time," Levi interrupted then, "is a good time to interrupt Eren Jaeger." He raised his foot like he would step forward and deliver a kick to bash in Eren's door.

Hange stomped her own foot down on Levi's — fast — to prevent him from moving in. When Levi's eyebrow twitched, and he looked from his violated foot to her with murder plain in his narrow eyes, Hange opened her mouth to offer him her excuse in a whisper.

But a low sound from Eren's room beat her to making the punchline. "_A-ah— Eren..."_

Hange winced and shut her good eye.

She didn't need to see to feel the realization take hold of Levi, anyway. When she dared to open her eye up again... Levi's intent was evident.

He would definitely break the door down — if the mingled affront and rage in his popping eyes and his scowl had anything to say about it. His growl sizzled. "That damn little—"

"Phase! It's just a phase!" Hange hissed. She linked a swift arm around Levi's throat and hauled him some steps from the door.

Levi tensed, likely debating whether interfering in the room's events was worth going through Hange first. Hange took advantage of his inner conflict to drag him off a bit farther.

She wanted to defend Eren — and Armin — any way she could. Although, for all the world, she didn't know why she owed those two her protection at _this_ level. A couple of important young titan Scouts shouldn't be engaging in recreation of this type, at such a time when all of humanity hung in the balance.

Or maybe, she thought, feeling her eye scrunch up... Maybe that was exactly why they _should _be allowed to engage in it_. _Why Hange wanted to let them.

"We already agreed, did we not," she muttered, "that Eren's at that age, Levi? He is. He's fifteen, which means—"

"_Only_ fifteen!" Levi exclaimed. He closed a hand on Hange's arm, squeezing so hard that Hange winced. "And he's ruining the golden boy — that I saved, with the injection that I could have used on Erwin."

Hange sighed, but she allowed Levi to free himself. It was a relief when he didn't barrel back down the way they'd come. "You're not wrong," she said. Levi just snorted. It was hard for him to forget letting Erwin go. She realized that. But still... "But let's let them—"

"_Let them_, my ass."

Hange's lips twitched upward when Levi stomped _her_ foot. It could have hurt, if he'd really meant it to.

"Do you think I want baby titans born in there?" he went on. "They'd be ugly — and I'd have to kill all of them."

"I can guarantee you, in fact, that that isn't how titan breeding would work." She clapped Levi on his shoulder. It was pointless to keep standing around. "Come on."

"Let go of me, Hange. I'll break him in bits." But Levi let Hange steer him farther off down the hall.

What a relief, honestly. As furious as Levi was... his compliance meant he must realize as well that they needed to let the kids simply be kids. Kids discovering ways to become adults.

With so much going on in their world now, when else would any of the original 104th get the chance to experiment?

Or maybe she was only able to retreat with Levi because Levi couldn't disobey her orders now. She'd somehow ended up in quite the position of high command, hadn't she?

Hange tried to keep her face clear of expression. Right now, she didn't want to think about that burden.

"I'll slice his cock off," Levi said. But his protests grew weaker the farther they went.

"Would you even want to _see_ his cock?" Hange asked. They took the corner of the hall and retraced the steps she'd travelled earlier. Levi cursed at her. She just rolled her eye and grinned. "He'd grow it back. He's a titan."

"Then I'll have to cut off _Armin's_—" But Levi stopped before he could declare it.

Hange let the silence pass while her companion began to walk slower, working out the layers of complications and new truths now that Armin could regenerate body parts, too. He processed all over again. The cloud on Levi's brow and the subsequent twitch of his understanding afforded her the chance to speak one more time while they retreated.

"Leave them for just one night," she said. "They aren't hurting anything. And even if they do, then... well. It will just make things more steamy for them — won't it."

And while Levi shouted at her, and she trotted out of his reach... she decided she'd ask Eren for his information tomorrow instead.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author Note: **_Again, I'VE NOT READ THE MANGA, so please, no spoilers! I've only seen through season 3 of the anime. Much, much appreciated!_

* * *

Winter. The snow gave so Sasha's footsteps sank into it ankle-deep. She didn't particularly like the cold, but at least she was used to it from her countryside upbringing; she had always fetched firewood or hunted under conditions like these. That said, she preferred the kind of snow that hardened, crusty, and crunched underfoot while better supporting her weight — not this fluffy, powdery stuff. The powdery snow got her boots wet.

But that was simply how it was this evening. Inconvenient, but not too concerning. More concerning was that Sasha felt incredibly hungry. It was good she and Conny were heading inside.

They entered the cabin where the Scouts had been set up since that afternoon. Sasha set her bow and her quiver of arrows down beside the door. The light inside made warm, inviting pools on the scattered tables. Although she immediately could smell something creamy and rich — and could see that Armin, Eren, Mikasa, and Jean were there with plates in front of them — she snapped her heels together, thumped her fist on her breast, and together with Conny saluted Levi — who sat pensively drinking alone, near the door.

"Nothing to report from our watch!" she yelled, overexcited by the lumpy look of the stew on Mikasa's plate.

There was meat again; Sasha knew _meat_ gave the stew that lumpier look. They'd been allowed to eat meat more frequently now — thanks to a certain awesome queen who Sasha was going to shoot game for, soon, and then ask to eat again with everyone. Meat tasted so heavenly.… So why hadn't Mikasa already scarfed hers down?

With difficulty, Sasha dragged her eyes back to Captain Levi. "There is not a single titan in sight! Nothing disturbing or noteworthy whatsoever, except for Conny's rumbling stomach, sir!"

Conny stiffened. "I think you mean _your _stomach_._"

"Fine," said Levi. He barely looked at them. But he tipped his head in the direction of the food that had been set aside.

Sasha forgot her wet feet and numb fingers. She shot toward her food at a violent dive — or she _would_ have, had Conny not seized the collar of her overcoat from behind.

She wriggled. She'd reported properly, hadn't she?

Sasha glanced behind herself, next. She found Conny assessing their companions, tense. Sasha looked over at them, too.

Mikasa still had her head down, and didn't seem to be eating. Jean displayed a crumpled brow, but at least everything was gone from _his_ plate except a chunk of his bread. Maybe he'd let Sasha eat that. As for Eren and Armin, they always ate everything on their plates — especially now, probably thanks to needing their strength as titans. So it almost wasn't even worth looking to see if she might snag _their_ leftovers. At the moment, both Eren and Armin somehow appeared ashamed, though. Sasha wondered what was with that. Maybe they knew what Sasha was thinking. Yes, they indeed should be ashamed that they both were such gluttons, and didn't let Sasha eat their meat sometimes!

Levi's voice interrupted her musings, and Conny slowly released her overcoat.

"Eren. Armin," Levi uttered. "The next watch is yours, I said. Get the hell up."

Armin had already risen. That gave Sasha a better view of his plate. But she frowned. Yes, definitely empty. He had even sopped up the stew broth with his bread.

"But," Armin said, "to have us both go out…? Eren, too? To not leave one of us with all of you..."

"You heard Sasha. There are no threats here. Get out."

Now Eren rose, and Sasha winced; she expected Eren to slam both his hands down like he'd often used to — upsetting the mead in his mug, or the bowl with whatever was left inside it. But she needn't have worried.

He didn't act out. Eren had been a little different, lately. More introspective or something.

All Eren did was stand slowly. "Is that the best decision we can make?"

Sasha watched Levi's eyebrow twitch. "Are you questioning me, you brat?"

Jean's hands fisted on his silverware, like he would stab his leftover piece of bread. Sasha watched _him_ closely, too. One shouldn't stab bread, one should just bite it.

"Just go, both of you," Jean said. "We're safe here. We have Mikasa and the Captain."

Upon mention of Mikasa's name, Sasha noticed that Eren and Armin looked twice as depressed as before. They both glanced at Mikasa guiltily.

Sasha wasn't sure what must have happened. Had they all gotten in a fight over their food?

Armin said, "It isn't a matter of your situation, so much, although that is worth being concerned about. It's more that Eren is still a target, so putting him away from the bulk of us is..."

Jean still appeared upset as well. "It's the best choice," he responded. "Or have you forgotten who we're up against? Reiner and the Beast Titan are still out there. If they show up, Eren is going to end up having to fight with them no matter what. And if he's with you, well then, who better to protect Eren than _you_, now, Armin — another titan?"

Eren and Armin stayed quiet. Even Sasha could tell that the logic made sense. There might have been a _few _points of discomfort remaining, in them choosing that plan... but Sasha had learned by now that any plan they made was a gamble anyway.

Nothing frightened her as much any more — not since she had been hurt in the battle they'd had with their thunder spears. She used to freeze up if a titan showed its face in front of her, all creepy smile with teeth.… But now she felt a lot calmer. She had no choice but to take each day and each event as it came, she figured. As long as she was alive in the moment, that meant she could still eat, and thus shouldn't worry. Honestly, worse than battles with the Scouts was when Conny withheld her food from her until she remembered table manners and to say 'please' and 'thank you' around her mouthfuls.

Eren and Armin slowly left their table, after only an instant of hesitation. Conny relaxed and started walking to get dinner when they did, and Sasha obediently followed him. They passed Eren and Armin on the way... but neither boy looked at Conny or at her.

Something was definitely going on. But the smell of the stew gravely distracted Sasha from it; Conny ladled some into the bowl she held out, while she fought with her mounting drool. This had to be heaven, this stew.

They took their plates to Eren and Armin's vacated seats near Mikasa and Jean.

"Where's the newbie?" Conny asked.

Sasha, just to be courteous, said, "Floch." Then she sat and rapidly began tucking in.

She had never understood why people bothered with casual conversation over their food. This was the time they should most be savoring their meals, devouring them. And if one talked too much while trying to eat, then surely they were bound to choke.

Sasha crammed her face full of bread.

Jean answered Conny's question, since Mikasa sat there unmoving. "He got on Armin's case again, so I told him he could fuck off. He took his food back to his bed." Then Jean slapped Sasha's seeking hand aside; he grabbed and ate the rest of the bread piece she had aimed for himself.

Conny snorted into his stew — though at Jean's words or the yelp of distress Sasha let out, Sasha couldn't exactly tell. In any case, she got over the loss of Jean's bread and stretched for Mikasa's untouched stew instead.

Mikasa finally stirred. She glanced at Sasha's attempt, and then slowly, ever so slowly pushed the stew into Sasha's reach.

Sasha unleashed a hum of joy. "Mikasaaaaa, I always knew you were the best!"

She tipped Mikasa's stew into her own bowl, wincing when the bowl nearly overflowed. But then, with her best balancing act, she picked the whole bowl up and sipped the creamy broth straight from the rim. The chunks of meat, potatoes and carrots danced pleasantly before her nose. Ah, this had to be paradise, titans in walls or no titans.

After a moment, Sasha realized everybody else at the table had frozen. She froze herself, certain she was about to get scolded — that Mikasa's kind gesture had just been a trick to get her into trouble after all. But when she dared to raise her eyes from her stew, she found Jean and Conny stared in disbelief not at her — but at Mikasa, instead.

Jean was the first to speak. "Mikasa. You can't keep doing this."

"Leave it," Conny cut in at once. He tugged on Jean's sleeve, as Jean raised his arm to touch Mikasa's shoulder. "Leave her alone this time, Jean."

"But obviously something is wrong!"

Sasha hesitated. Her spoon dripped from where she held it halfway raised. She began to feel she'd missed something important. With great restraint, she ceased eating and asked them all, "What's going on? Is something strange?"

Jean turned, his palms up and open as if he pleaded with her. "Mikasa hasn't been eating. Something's clearly bothering her, but she won't tell us what it is." His face darkened. "And I swear, if Eren did something to make—"

A thump sounded between Conny and Jean, and Sasha could only conclude that Conny had kicked Jean under the table.

At that, Mikasa slowly rose. She pressed her red scarf to her lips. Then, as if she thought better of it, she lowered the scarf and glanced once at Sasha.

Sasha still felt very confused. But she returned the solemn nod Mikasa gave her before striding away. Mikasa then gave the same nod to Levi as she passed him, to retreat to their sleeping room. Sasha blinked when Levi's scowl deepened and he let Mikasa pass him without speaking. Was there something on Levi's mind, too? It looked like it.

It looked like there was something on everyone's.

Then straight back to her stew she went, without further considering it.

"Great job," Conny said to Jean, after Mikasa disappeared. He dug into his own stew then with a vengeance Sasha could _feel_. Good, Sasha thought. Otherwise Conny's stew was bound to get cold. Waste not.

"What?" asked Jean, his voice gone high. "I know you two have noticed, too." Sasha raised her eyebrows. Jean included her in whatever this was? "It's not just me. We have to _do_ something."

She tilted her head back and drained her mug. This meat was good, but it made her so thirsty.

It made her thirsty.

She yelled. "Salt!"

Conny jumped. Then he leaned over and plunked his head into his hands. "Sasha... you damn potato girl... that's not what we're talking about. For once, can't you just forget food?"

"Nope." Sasha admired the latest hunk of meat on her spoon, in awe and pure wonder at it. "There's salt in this stew! A lot of it, by the taste. And even though it's so expensive! I thought we wouldn't get to eat a lot of salt until we reached the sea Armin has been talking about, but here it is seasoning our dinner. Ah, god, that Christa! I'm going to cry..." But she was already crying as she stuffed the salty, rich stew into her mouth.

"Queen Historia," Conny corrected. He didn't pick up his head from in his hands.

"Stop changing the subject," Jean said.

By now, Sasha had finished half of her meal; her ravenous hunger felt tamped down.

Now was the second stage of the dinner, where she slowed down the pace and enjoyed her food more steadily. As a result, she decided she might as well talk, if there seemed to be some problem. "Seri'usly. Wazza matta iss time?" she asked around a sweet, stringy carrot.

It was Conny who answered her — before Jean could grow affronted again. "There's something wrong between Mikasa, Armin, and Eren. You didn't notice?"

Jean said, "They've done something to Mikasa."

"You don't know that," Conny stated, but to Sasha, he sounded unsure of himself.

Sasha cut a new carrot in half with her spoon. Cute, sweet carrot. Smelled tasty. Yum.

"Eren and Armin," Jean said, "have started cutting her out of their equation. It's so easy to see that it's—"

"They wouldn't do that," Conny said. "They're friends until the bitter end. By now, everyone knows that, Jean."

"Then they're keeping something from her. And she can tell. And it's causing a rift between them. It's obvious to even the Captain, and it's making things awkward for everybody!"

Sasha's hands and mouth paused. "Huh?"

But Jean didn't seem to hear her. "So you know what? As much as it makes it even worse to send those two out on a watch together, I'm actually glad we did. I'm tired of looking at them together. Mikasa doesn't deserve this."

Conny just broke into his bread, dunking it in his stew without buttering it. "The crush you tried to bury is showing again..."

Sasha chewed and swallowed the last of her own bread. That cleared her mouth to speak again.

But she didn't have anything to say. She was starting to feel extremely uneasy, now that the food was fueling her and helping her brain focus again. Was Jean right about their three friends?

Conny ate a bite of his bread. But then he stopped and sighed. "The truth is..." Except then he stopped eating, too.

Sasha considered a second, then stretched her hand out for his bread.

As expected, Conny snatched her wrist. That made Sasha feel much better. It meant Conny still had fight in him. So whatever this was bothering him couldn't be _that _horrible, could it.

When Sasha didn't fight against him, Conny looked at her in surprise. And, when she smiled pleasantly to prompt him to go on speaking, he seemed to get hold of himself. He released her, let her steal his bread after all, and finally went on with his thought.

"The truth is, I think Jean is probably right, and that Eren and Armin are keeping secrets. But there's nothing anyone can do about that. They probably have a lot of them. Like... Both of them are titans, now. There are things we've learned thanks to it, but there are still other things probably only they know, or things they can only tell to people like Historia or Hange. Even if Mikasa is their good friend... For the sake of all humanity—" Conny stopped himself. Then he began again. "For the sake of us Eldians inside the walls, then they might have to be quiet about it."

Jean pushed away his empty bowl. "I wasn't talking about royal secrets or titan secrets, actually. I'm saying all this is something personal between the three of them, damn it. Are you saying you haven't noticed it, either? That there isn't any credit to the weird feelings that I'm getting?"

Conny just looked at the table. "Well, it's not always the best choice to go only on feelings and emotions, right?"

Jean tisked and rose from his seat.

After that, Sasha felt a burst of cold. She realized the cabin door had opened and shut again behind her. She, Conny and Jean all turned — to see that Hange had entered.

Hange stamped off her boots, then pulled off her goggles when the temperature inside began to make their lenses fog. Then, while Hange carefully wiped them clean on the cuff of her overcoat, she strode toward Levi — where she leaned down to whisper something in his ear.

Sasha didn't think it possible to see their captain's face grow any darker. But it definitely did. Hange looked apologetic afterward.

No matter which way Sasha looked at it, their situation in these snow covered hills was definitely getting tense. Did it all really have to do with a secret kept between Eren and Armin?

Hange walked to their table next. Conny and Jean snapped to attention. Sasha just raised a hand and waved at the woman amicably.

Hange hadn't come in and gone straight for the food, meaning maybe she wasn't hungry... and maybe Sasha could go back for seconds later, claiming whatever Hange hadn't. That was fun.

"Surviving the cold?" Hange asked. Both Conny and Jean said something. Sasha failed to pay attention to it — because now that Hange had come near, she could see the woman's coat looked soaked clean through with melting snow… and a lump about the size of a small chicken twitched from inside its front flap.

Sasha's eyes widened like a pair of plates.

Hange saw her looking and winked. Then she reached carefully into her coat and pulled out a struggling snow hare by the legs. Jean and Conny yelped, then stared.

Sasha's mouth began watering.

"It was a little hard to catch without your marksmanship, Sasha," Hange said, "but while I was out there giving news to our scout to send back to Historia, it turned out I couldn't resist." So that was why her coat was wet; she had dived to catch the hare with her bare hands. "I'll tell you what," Hange added. "If you help me to slaughter, skin, and prepare this poor creature before it's lights out... then I'll let you eat half of it."

Sasha shot up from her chair, saluted, and shouted her enthusiasm. "I would be more than willing to dedicate myself to that endeavor, fully and absolutely — just as soon as I finish my stew right here, ma'am!"

Hange grinned and held the struggling hare. In the corner by the door, Levi snorted. Conny rubbed his eyes and sighed, while Jean again appeared distracted and incredibly discontented.

But Sasha forgot about Eren and Armin and went back to her dinner, thinking about hare.

* * *

The snow looked truly beautiful in the light of the setting sun. But it also created the slow, penetrating type of chill that sank into bones like sickness. The coming night meant the temperature would drop more and increase the windchill, too. So Armin felt very grateful for two things during his evening watch.

He felt grateful for the warm drink in his hands that he gripped with his mittens to insulate it, and grateful for the one who wrapped arms around him from behind, insulating _him. _Even though titans had higher body temperatures than regular humans, Armin still got cold.

He'd always been the weakest one.

From where they sat leaning against an evergreen, on a hill, looking out at the snowscape from under its boughs... Eren shifted, pulling Armin closer.

Eren had been squeezing Armin extra-tightly ever since they'd come out here. Armin could understand the sentiment. It felt like so much around them was wavering, and the only anchor they had was each other. But that very anchor... It just held them in place, locking them into a situation where they might not be able to free themselves if push came to shove and they had to escape.

"Eren..." Armin slowly began. He didn't think the two of them should wait longer to have a talk.

But he also didn't want to press. He'd grown even more sensitive to Eren's mixed moods recently. Plus, he knew Eren already understood that they'd walked into water too deep. So was it really right for Armin to bring anything up in words, when they had so much else on their plates already?

Then again, if not now, then when?

There had never been a good time to start what they had, or a good time to talk about it.

Eren sighed beside Armin's ear, with his chin resting lightly on Armin's shoulder. "Is it time to have a talk?" he asked.

Armin smiled wryly. Then he shut his eyes and relaxed further back. Eren kissed the top of Armin's hair. Then his ear.

Armin decided he should be direct. "Eren... I think we should stop any intimacy between us." The wind whooshed around the evergreen trunk, stirring Armin's hair after that.

He should put on his hood, so his hair didn't smack Eren in the face. But Eren didn't shift as if Armin's hair bothered him. In fact, he didn't shift at all. He didn't even sound surprised when he replied to Armin's statement. "Is it that you've decided you don't enjoy being with me in that way after all?"

Armin inhaled, then held the breath a time before exhaling it. This conversation... it would be difficult, in more ways than Armin could count.

He spoke calmly, carefully considering his words. "I think what we're doing is causing complications that have too many negative repercussions. And they're compounded more because I _do _enjoy it." Eren remained still, so Armin talked a little easier — although he flushed at what he revealed next. "You're an incredible lover. Attentive, skillful, and patient. You're gentle. That part was so surprising, but I like that and appreciate it so much. It feels so good I want to cry, somehow... and every single time. Until you, I never knew people could feel that level of pleasure. And after we spend time together, the satisfaction doesn't stop. I feel so _alive _when I'm close to you."

"Mm." But despite the grunt of agreement, Eren sounded oddly neutral. Perhaps he waited to hear something specific? Armin didn't know what it was.

"My mood, my outlook, everything gets better. I want to feel that affect you have on me... over and over and over again."

Eren just cut to the chase. "But?" Armin thought he felt him tremble. When he didn't reply yet, Eren spoke further. "I meant the emotional aspect of everything we've begun to share. Or the situation in general being what you've started to dislike, not the sex. Armin... I can tell you've liked _that_. You don't have to stroke my ego."

Armin flushed harder, glad Eren couldn't see his face from his current vantage point. "Oh." He fumbled with the mug that held his hot drink. "Of course."

Eren took the mug from his hands and gently placed it to one side — into a nest of pine needles that hadn't been covered by snow. "Is it Mikasa?" Eren asked. "Regarding the repercussions you're talking about."

Armin didn't retrieve his mug. "Yes," he said, "it's partly that. I wish you hadn't told her this morning what we've been up to as directly as you did."

Finally, Eren sounded something besides neutral; frustration raised his volume so his voice clamored against the wind. "We weren't going to lie to her, or let her find out on her own by walking in and getting shocked to see us kissing each other. And there's no way to make what we've been doing together sound delicate." Eren paused, while Armin ran a mitten down his face and bit the inside of his cheek. Then, before Armin could reply, Eren rescinded his statement. "Or maybe I was hasty," he muttered, "and you could have found a _way_ to make it delicate. Because you're much better at diplomacy." He sounded apologetic.

Armin sighed and decided there was no point in scolding or blaming Eren if Eren knew how to blame himself. "I couldn't necessarily have handled it better," he said. "But I don't mean I thought we should lie or wait for her to find out, either. I just wish you'd spoken to me first before deciding when and how to do it. I wish her feelings had been considered more, between all three of us. You know?" Eren made a sound as if he would reply, but Armin talked over any defenses. "You've said to her so many times, and despite her considering you family... 'I'm not a child, and I'm not your little brother.' So—"

"So?" Eren asked, his voice higher. "That's true."

Armin knew he had to spell out what Eren couldn't see himself. "But Eren. You've kept stressing it to her, as if you want her views to change. And... although you've said you aren't a child or her brother, you've never told her you don't consider yourself anything like her potential _lover_, either."

A brief beat passed. Eren tensed; Armin felt it against his back and shoulders.

Had Eren never realized it? Or had he left the opening there on purpose, and simply not expected Armin would notice?

"Which might have left room," Armin continued, "for her to maybe interpret—"

"She doesn't think of me like that."

Armin rolled his eyes toward the above evergreen boughs, as if to ask them for some help. Then again, they'd probably only needle him as much as Eren did right now. "You're right, she might not," he said. "But even so, whatever the case is... there's still room for her to feel jealous, now that you and I have something special." Armin's heart beat faster thinking of _how_ special. Having Eren close meant so much to him. And yet... "And if Mikasa feels like that, she might make a poor decision. I don't want it to be our fault if—"

"Mikasa's not petty like that. You _know_ this."

"It's just..." Armin hesitated.

He knew how strong Mikasa was, and how focused she could remain. Yet he grew scared for her sake every time he thought back to their battle in Trost.

Mikasa, once believing Eren was dead, after Armin had said he'd seen Eren eaten... Mikasa had led Armin and the rest of their friends into battle too recklessly. She had failed to properly conserve her gas. If Eren in his titan form hadn't eventually showed up to kill the titans that had cornered her — on the ground, without her ODM gear — then Mikasa would have been dead.

She was more sensitive than Eren often realized. When Floch had accused her of giving up on Armin's life on the rooftop with Levi and the injection... Armin had seen the conflict in her eyes as she began to hate and doubt herself.

Like anybody human, Mikasa's emotions could at times make her volatile. Already, she wasn't eating much...

But maybe Armin was getting carried away. In the end, Eren might be right. Mikasa wasn't careless or overly-emotional regularly. Only when it came to Eren's safety. And this — what Armin was doing with Eren — didn't hurt or threaten Eren, at least. It shouldn't be a problem for her.

So why did Armin still feel so uncertain? Why had Mikasa looked so torn, and empty and frail at the dinner table? Was she still just worried about the thirteen year time limit part of Ymir's Curse? Or did she wish it could be her in Eren's arms like this, and not Armin? Maybe it was simply that she loved Eren and Armin equally, and felt stressed about the two of them staying happy together in the face of their fate? Or was it like Armin had always secretly worried, and that Mikasa loved Eren more than she loved Armin? Like she'd only ever looked out for Armin because _Eren _had always wanted Armin safe. If that were the case, Mikasa might certainly be jealous now, Armin thought.

Armin watched his breath fog the air. "I know Mikasa is a person who, regardless of any intimate feelings, would give her life for your sake. No... she'd give even more than that. So how do you think she feels now, to know there's something else you've needed or wanted, but you came straight to _me_ for it, first — without even giving her the chance to decide for herself if _she_ could meet your desires this way, like she does everything else for you? She must feel like you're underestimating her."

A few stray needles fell in the wind near their feet.

"First of all," Eren said, his voice husky, "and I can't believe you're making me repeat it... I am not a child, or her little brother. I've never asked her to do everything she does for me. Secondly, Armin, even if she did want to have sex with me... that's not a role a girl — a woman can fulfill. I don't want it. So I'm not her potential lover, either, okay?"

Armin blinked. Eren's certainty astonished him. He'd always thought Eren leaned mostly one direction in terms of having preferences. After all, he often called Armin feminine words like 'cute' and 'pretty.' And in the bedroom, if Armin asked Eren how Eren knew how to make everything feel so good, Eren replied with, _W-well, I know this is what women and men do together, s-so..._

"At least," Eren said, faltering, "I don't _think_ I would want to be Mikasa's lover. I think it's just that... my _father_ liked women. And now he's a piece inside me. As for my mother, it's hard to tell from just my father's memories — or my own — what she liked, what she didn't like, and how that might have passed to me. Either way... what I want is ultimately up to me. It's my decision, damn it. And right now, I want you."

But Eren sounded frustrated.

Armin just swallowed. "Are you sure?"

He wasn't sure why he tried to argue. If Eren wanted him, just him, then why did Armin look the gift horse in the mouth? What was Armind trying to make Eren prove? Did he simply still feel afraid that Eren's feelings and his own would drive a wedge between them and Mikasa?

Even Jean and Conny had noticed something was wrong by now...

"You're as fierce about caring for Mikasa as you are about me," Armin said. "What's so different in considering her, especially if you might share your father's preferences after all? What's stopping you, when she's the better choice? If you want a connection with someone, wouldn't it make more sense with her? It's what everybody expects anyway."

"Armin, you're looking down on yourself again."

"Yes," Armin said, growing heated. He felt like something cracked in him, or like an ember flared to life. "I am! It's something I can't seem to help — and I'll keep doing it, Eren. I'll keep doing it... because I don't understand, and because I can't afford not to examine myself! I have a duty now to make smart decisions for everyone, and not let anybody down. I have to evaluate and judge my worth accurately!"

He wriggled free of Eren's arms and instantly felt cold again. But what was more important than his physical comfort was getting Eren to understand.

He turned and took to his knees, where then he looked in Eren's eyes — finding them narrowed, wary... sad. But they looked even more stunningly emerald thanks to the evergreen boughs above them. Armin didn't want to make Eren look so beautifully tortured like that. But what choice did he really have?

They didn't have the luxury of being selfish at this point.

"And you. You have eight years left, Eren. Eight! Less than that, now," Armin exclaimed. "So I think I have a right to get critical. The Founding Titan's power's we still don't know much about — and thus can't count on — put aside... us Eldians inside these walls will never obtain our freedom, never be able to protect ourselves without the power of the Attack Titan. I've been thinking about it, and…. You'll need to pass your power down."

Eren spoke out sternly. "Armin."

"And how else but in the same way your father passed it down to you? It's not right, it wouldn't be right to force it on just anyone, on anybody not prepared, like Historia wasn't really prepared when—"

"_I_ wasn't prepared either," Eren cut in. "I knew and understood nothing. My old man forced this on me_, _too."

"—so that means you can't just ignore this and die after your thirteen years are over, then let a random Eldian baby get born with your powers instead. It would be far better if you—" He stopped, belatedly taking in Eren's argument. "But... as for arguing that your father forced you... _Can_ you make that argument — or is it relevant any more — when it seems like you've always been glad, or at least by now are rather _happy_ to have your titan powers?"

A dark scowl. "Happy to have my powers?"

"You appreciate them, because they let you protect us and help you defeat more titans!"

"I don't appreciate this," Eren said. "I have struggled with it more than you know. But I learned quickly to ignore that conflict — because I didn't have a choice. What I _wanted_ was to be a regular Scout, to protect you and Mikasa, and kill titans like that. But that option was taken away from me when I turned into my titan. After my trial, all I could do was work with everything that had been forced upon me from then on — because as a titan, I finally had the power that before I just didn't possess. I couldn't afford to waste that potential. But that in no way means I have treasured this."

Armin could tell Eren was mad. But Armin felt frustrated, too. "I understand. But my point is, it's like your power's _meant _for you. It's only ever aided you in what — from the beginning — you've wanted to do."

"Because _I worked_ to make it so!"

"Yes!" And Armin laughed, breathless. Eren leaned forward, and Armin couldn't help liking the dangerous glint in his worked-up glare. "Yes, Eren — and that's amazing! Ever since you realized you were a titan and began piecing things together, and even though it upset and confused you, you've never wavered from wanting to defeat titans and be free."

"I would have had those desires regardless. Because I was born into this world... the world should be within my reach. I have a right to go anywhere within it I desire to!"

Anywhere. Armin agreed. They should be able to see mountains of sand. Water that burned. The endless sea.

"Yes!" Armin didn't feel cold any more. "Exactly as you say, Eren. But most people don't think like that. Can't you see? You, _Eren Jaeger_," Armin said, "have a rare, powerful resolve pumping through your veins. Humanity can't stand to lose that! And so you'll have to pass it on! That drive, that resolve in that blood of yours, along with your titan powers and memories." He reached up next to rub his brow, returning to the technical details. "What's best is probably the way the Reiss family went about it, as much as I don't like admitting to it. If you had someone else that shared your blood, and could teach that successor the truth ahead of time—"

"Armin."

"—and then prepare them for the task that would have to be _eating_ you—"

"Stop. And stop raising your voice. We're on watch."

Armin shouted. "_You need a_ _child_, Eren! Tell me it's getting through to you!"

Eren blinked, tensed, and looked away.

Armin clenched both his mittened hands. "Your own child would be _useful_. If you can raise somebody well, and teach them everything you know, and _prepare_ them for this burden... then, if your blood runs through their veins, I know they're going to be strong enough to handle what's outside these walls."

Eren still didn't look at him. A twisted, bitter expression came over his face.

Armin ignored it another moment more, trying to finish his outline. "Eren, somebody like me can't..." His hands shook. He fisted them harder. "Somebody like me can't provide that to you."

At that, Eren _did_ look at him — pitying and sad yet again.

Armin hated the look. But he had to finish. He had to try his best for everyone. "And just think, if it were Mikasa instead... think how strong the two of you are. The Ackerman blood would get included too, and every benefit that comes with that." Eren only scowled again, and this time the set of his jaw appeared hard like fired clay. "It's true that we don't know how that might work combined with your specific titan powers. But a child... If you just could have—" But then Armin cut himself off.

He stared down at his mittened hands and realized what he'd been saying.

Eren only looked at the setting sun and appeared older somehow than he ever had.

Armin had forgotten something important they'd both learned through Doctor Jaeger's memories. Pushing an agenda on a child... Such methods of raising children had terrible repercussions.

Because Doctor Jaeger's parents had forced obedience and deference to the Marleyans on _him_, he had rebelled, gone outside a gate he shouldn't have, and ended up with a dead little sister. One could argue that had turned out for the better, in time, with a stride toward a much greater good, and the Owl's help... but what about Doctor Jaeger's first son?

Doctor Jaeger had tried to mold Zeke like clay for the sake of the Eldians. And thanks to that, Zeke had turned Doctor Jaeger over to his Marleyan enemies.

Nothing good ever came of parents forcing children to adhere to their ways.

"What am I saying," Armin said. His voice shook. Was his worry that deep down, Eren might like Mikasa more than him really making him this distracted and stupid? "It's like I've forgotten everything I transcribed about Doctor Jaeger's experiences. Is that... is that how easy it is to fall into such dangerous, narrow thinking? Even if I feel backed into a corner from all the stress right now..." It was natural and understandable, in some ways, to believe a child might grow up like a vessel for a parent's hopes and dreams. But ultimately, it didn't come to good. Armin needed to throw such poisoned thinking away.

"The Beast Titan," Eren said. "He said something to me when we crossed paths — right before we injected you."

Armin looked up from where he'd been sightlessly staring at his knees. His knees were soaked now with the snow, but he couldn't really feel it.

Eren had told him nothing yet regarding this.

"He said I looked nothing like my father. And that it was my father's fault both he and I were in the states we were in." Armin blinked, watching Eren smile dangerously. "And then he said he would come back and save me. His eyes looked like my father's, too."

"_Wall Rose_," Armin exhaled, using the title like a swear. "The Beast Titan is him. It's Zeke. The Beast Titan's your half-brother!"

Eren ruffled his bangs, then leaned his elbows on his knees again. His grim expression didn't change. "It's one theory we have, at least. A good one. But we can't prove it. I only saw him in my father's memories, and in that... photograph. When he was a child."

Armin collapsed into the snow — sitting again, facing Eren, and crossing his legs. "My god. What... what should we do, guessing that? What do you think he really wants? Did Marley send him in as a titan, for the fuel resources apparently under Paradis? Did he come of his own choosing, or was he forced to? What if he—"

"I don't know, either. And I don't want to guess, Armin. I would rather locate him first, then bludgeon all the answers out."

Armin fell quiet a long moment, and then replied, "Yes, of course."

"And right now, I'd still rather talk about us."

But Armin no longer knew what he should say.

His head was spinning with ideas. Was this the secret Eren had been keeping? If so, what purpose would it serve? He couldn't think of a good one. Ultimately, knowing the Beast Titan might be Zeke didn't tell them anything helpful.

His mind strayed to the Reiss family again. What would Historia say about this? Zeke had royal blood, like her. What could it all possibly mean? Should they bother Historia with all this, yet? Certainly she had other struggles now, as Queen. Then again... considering her potential regarding titan powers... it seemed like a miracle that all anyone wanted from her as of yet was for her to rule, solving disputes, and trying to learn etiquette. That had many a time made Armin suspicious. After all, weren't there far better ways that Historia could serve them? To benefit their research, maybe? That didn't mean they should use Historia for those things, of course. She wasn't an experiment. She'd been through too much already. But if Armin knew the military at all... then someone, at least, must be thinking about new ways to take advantage of her.

It made him very uneasy. Armin thought Historia should be protected. He saw nothing at present that might pose an immediate threat to her wellbeing, but...

"About us," Armin muttered, in reply to Eren's wanting to talk about them. "Yes. But I've been thinking, too, about Historia, and how we can help her, Eren." Eren flinched. It did not escape Armin's notice. "You're still holding back a secret. I can see it weighing on you. You haven't trusted me with it. Is it about Historia?"

All Eren did was shake his head.

Armin thought of their Queen again. Historia... She loved Ymir. Historia and Ymir probably felt caught in the same situation as Armin and Eren did — pulled in one direction toward each other, but in the other direction, yanked apart by their duties to other people.

But at least Historia and Ymir were more free than Armin and Eren were. Since Historia had never eaten Eren, since she didn't have the Founding Titan or Attack Titan's powers, she didn't need to think about having to pass her power on. Ymir didn't need to think about Historia disappearing in thirteen years.

Armin felt a little jealous. Maybe that was why he continued to press Eren now, to search for answers that would satisfy him. So he could feel he had control in a world where he so often felt he had none.

"Your secret, Eren. Would you tell it to Mikasa? Have you already, maybe?"

"Give it a rest." Eren lifted Armin's mug from the pine needle bed and handed it back to him — without waiting for Armin to be ready for it.

Armin fumbled, but he took it. He stared at it, then took a sip. The drink was cold now. Their whole world, this snow, Eren... it all felt cold and hopeless again. It was getting very hard to be the person who talked so positively about finding the sea.

He said, "I don't know what to do, except follow the threads I have regarding everybody else. I'm at a dead end now regarding myself. When it comes to power and resolve... I don't know that I'm not completely useless."

Eren kept silent a moment. The crease in his brow made him look reflective. Then he asked, "Somebody like you feels useless? Even after all the faith we've all said that we have in you?"

Armin squeezed his mug. Then he dumped his drink out — splashing it onto a nearby snow drift. "What good am I lately?" he asked.

The snow and pine needles squeaked when Eren shifted; Eren stuck out his legs, stretching them, and then ran both hands down his face. Into his palms, in a broken, urgent voice, he uttered only, "_Armin."_

Eren's upset took him aback. "I'm— I'm just being rational in evaluating what there is I can do!" That wasn't horrible of Armin, was it? Why didn't Eren understand the pressure Armin felt under to succeed? "I can't transform into the Colossal Titan casually, for Hange's experiments or for data collecting, for example. Even just standing still, that form causes too much damage, doesn't it? Even if I did it out in the open countryside, here... We've only just reclaimed most of the land inside Wall Maria. The citizens need all the space they can get for farming territory and wood collection and other resources, to rebuild. It wouldn't be right for me to destroy any of it. Luckily, because we fought Bertholdt so many times, we have a decent amount of information on the Colossal Titan already... but it's just—"

"You think you should transform, to help?"

"That would be the most useful, right? Just so I can get used to it. Just so that I can understand the feelings while I'm in that state, and see if anything is different when it's me instead of Bertholdt. But most importantly, to make sure I have control. When you had to move that boulder in Trost, at first you struck at Mikasa. And so the control is the most important part when I have the power of such a giant—"

"You'll be able to control it."

Armin plunked his emptied mug in the snow drift, too. "Eren. You've got to stop telling me that. An assumption is dangerous." He searched Eren's eyes. "What if I can't? And what's more... the more you reassure me, the more it tempts me to justify my fear, my backing away from testing my titan. Because as much as I want to know what I can do, I'm also incredibly scared! I'm scared of this titan inside of me now. If you think I don't know the struggle that you've had... well, I'm certainly learning it."

"I can help you with all that."

Armin raked his hand through his hair. "Is that really the best idea? For example, I know if I really wanted to transform, I could push the Captain, I could find a safe way. But as long as you keep telling me I'll be fine and you'll help me with this yourself, I have an excuse to relax. Don't you see? If I relax when I should push hard instead, or should be learning to do this on my own... then I could be the death of us, simply from turning out weak or careless!"

"Damn it, Armin. You're not weak." Eren rose up onto his knees and tugged Armin in by the wrist.

Armin thumped into Eren's chest, held tightly in Eren's embrace. Eren's overcoat smelled like the evergreen tree, tangy and rustic.

It felt wonderful to be held in Eren's arms — but where did Armin get the right to indulge himself in something like this? Where did _Eren? _They had responsibilities and the feelings of others they should consider.

"Armin," Eren rasped, low. "Please."

"Please, what?" he mumbled into Eren's coat. "Please stop worrying about humanity's fate? If I don't worry, then who will?"

"Hange. Levi."

"We've got to, too."

"Then just let me do it. Not you."

"Why you, Eren, and not me, too?"

Eren's voice cracked another time. "Because of how much I care about you. Maybe that makes me too soft. Or careless. But Armin... let me take the burden for you, if I can't simply destroy it instead."

"Are you blaming yourself again for my becoming a titan? You and Mikasa don't owe me anything, or need to struggle to make up for it. I've already—"

"It's because I want to!" Eren pressed Armin against him harder.

Armin's heart rate sped up again. What on earth was he supposed to do?

"Armin... can't you love yourself enough to believe that _I_ do? Enough to let me show you, in whatever way I'd gladly _die_ to show you?"

Armin's eyes stretched wide. He recalled Eren tossing himself into a titan's mouth, getting eaten to make sure Armin was rescued. But Eren shouldn't still be thinking like that. Eren's powers were much too important to waste in saving someone like Armin!

Eren pulled back an inch, tilting up Armin's chin to look at him. "Can't you finally acknowledge inside yourself how much you're worth, and what I'd do for you? Even sleeping with you... was that not enough to prove how amazing you are to me, yet?"

Armin swallowed. Eren's intensity shocked him.

Eren wanted Armin to acknowledge what was positive about himself? But Armin couldn't see those things. It was Eren who was amazing. Eren and Mikasa, not him.

"What else do I have to do?" Eren's eyes grew moist, the way they had when he'd cried over Armin's near-death. "If you can't even love yourself, does that mean you can't love me, too?"

Armin watched Eren's tears threaten to fall. Lately, why did Armin only make Eren cry? Was he doing even more things wrong? Or was the wrong thing he did now failing to listen to Eren's assertions? Failing to believe in what Eren said?

Eren and Mikasa had faith in Armin. Armin knew that fact well by now. So why was he refusing to act like he truly believed it? Was it because he'd grown afraid of _losing _their faith in him, now that he was the Colossal Titan? If Armin could keep pretending he'd never had their faith in the first place... then failing Eren or Mikasa at this point might not result in as much pain.

But that was foolish, wasn't it, simply trying to trick himself. And worse, now Armin's fear and doubt had begun to grieve Eren deeply.

"Eren," he said. "I'm so sorry."

"Sorry... because I'm right? You can't love me?"

The hurtin Eren's expression made it look like Armin had stabbed him. Yet the pleading in his eyes waited for Armin to argue with him. Respect and restraint warred with Eren's clear urge to press Armin for an answer, maybe by squeezing Armin even more roughly. Instead, Eren dropped hold of Armin completely.

But the hunger, the desperation, the visible desire Eren couldn't hide nailed it home for Armin at last.

Armin always doubted himself. He may never grow out of the habit. But he never doubted Eren Jaeger when it came to strength of feeling or resolve. Armin believed in Eren... and Eren believed in Armin.

It was the same undeniable realization Armin had come to when he'd negotiated for Eren's life in Trost. Armin might not have had any faith in himself then, or in his powers of persuasion, but his friends had trusted him to succeed — to change minds and prevent disaster. And so, if Armin trusted _them_... then what could be more reassuring than the fact that they easily supported him? They chose Armin.

And Eren was still choosing him now. What could be more convincing than the fact that Eren expressed _love _for him?

If _Eren_ _Jaeger _loved Armin... it meant Armin was worth loving.

"I do love you," exclaimed Armin. He said it with fists clenched, fiercely. "I do, Eren. And so you're right. I'll have to start changing what I think of me... to account for what _you_ do. You're right. Because I do believe in you."

Eren squinted his eyes shut and sagged as if in exhaustion. "I just want... Armin, so badly—"

"Me too." Armin tried to smile through the twisting feeling in his chest. "And so I won't argue any more. We'll find a way forward — okay? Eren, I... I swear it to you."

Eren sat back in the snow and nodded. Then he cautiously, slowly leaned in toward Armin. Armin moved faster, kissing him.

It finally began to feel warm, although the sun's light continued to die. This horrible winter that surrounded them... Armin had faith now that they would make it end.

* * *

Sasha waited until it didn't sound like anything was happening. Not that her extremely sharp hearing had picked up any sounds of rustling or shortened breaths in the first place. Nope. No snatches of conversation, either. No 'I love yous' that had finally explained— well, finally explained everything that had seemed uncertain during dinner.

She wouldn't tell Conny or Jean. It was no one's business, she thought. Not even hers. She distracted herself. Oh gee oh boy — wasn't the meat on this hare a bit gamey but nevertheless delicious?

Her footsteps made them turn to her. All Sasha did was wave and grin.

Eren blinked upward at her, first. He didn't stop holding Armin's hand. "Sasha. What is it?" he asked.

"Oh, nothing. I just thought... Well, it got dark and cold out here."

Armin let go of Eren's hand. "Shouldn't you be inside still, then? Are you all right? You look red."

Sasha laughed a little too loud. Then she gave up pretending not to be awkward.

She plunked in the snow next to them. She pulled her half of Hange's hare out of the shelter of her coat. Immediately, Eren and Armin gaped.

"It's wild meat. Hange caught it," she said. "And I just wanted to share it... because inside the cabin, you looked down. I already shared some with Mikasa, too."

Armin's eyes widened when Sasha dangled a strip of the cooked hare before his nose. Then he reached out both hands to accept it. "Sasha... is it really okay to share this? Aren't you still hungry after dinner?"

She shrugged, trying not to look at them too much. The truth was, they made a very cute couple; she wasn't sure she could take it without squealing if she kept watching them look embarrassed and cozy. "If you're going to use up energy out here on watch, I just thought... you probably needed it?"

Eren cleared his throat. "Uh, we— we aren't using up energy. We're just sitting out here, watching."

Armin blushed.

Sasha chewed on a juicy hunk of hare. "Uh huh." She nodded, swallowed, and continued eating.

She didn't know what to do yet about the others seeming so disturbed or worried. To her, this development between Eren and Armin appeared like a positive thing. Just like sharing meals together made people relax and feel happier, Sasha assumed intimacy was the same. If these two could go on like this, maybe it would help relieve some of their burdens.

They wouldn't get any protest from _her_, at least. Maybe Sasha could even think of a way to make Mikasa feel better, if it would help their whole regiment.

She broke into the hare again. "So... what is kissing like?" she said. "The noise sounds like eating noises. I was kind of worried there were titans out here."

Eren groaned. Armin spluttered and hid in his hands.

Sasha only chuckled. "I mean... I guess there kind of _were_ titans. So just make sure you eat this hare... and not accidentally each other after I go back in. All right?"


End file.
